


I Fucking Hate High School

by UmbrellasOnTheInside



Category: Jreg, The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Slow Burn, ancap and ancom are the big gay, ancap isnt an asshole, homo fash is trans, they/them pronouns for ancom, this is really corny idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbrellasOnTheInside/pseuds/UmbrellasOnTheInside
Summary: Basically a high school AU where Ancom and Ancap are dumbass best friends, Commie is a foreign exchange student, and Nazi is still an asshole.
Relationships: Ancom/Commie, Ancom/Nazi, Authleft/Libleft, Libcap, leftist unity - Relationship, libertairian/ancap, libleft/authright, opposite unity - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so this is a short chapter but I'll prob post chapter 2 eventually. Also, Ancom uses they/them in this one.

“C’mon, rich boy. Just this once. Please.”  
“No, Ancom. I’ve given you so many free pods that you’re basically bleeding me dry at this point.”  
The shorter of the two huffed in a way that made their messy chocolate curls bounce. “I’ve done enough shit for you for those not to be ‘free,’” they shot back with air quotes. The taller just rolled his eyes.  
“Really? Last time I checked it seemed like you were either using the supply I told you to sell or giving it to your free-loading friends.”  
Ancom put a hand over their chest in a mocking offense. “But Ancap, it was merely a free sample.” Ancap’s expression soured further. “Besides, you owe me after your cousin assaulted me that one time,” they shrugged.  
“I want to assault you, too, honestly. Especially when you cut into my wallet.”  
“You love me and you know it, fuckwit.” Ancap closed his locker and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“Why am I friends with you again?”  
“That’s between you and God, homie.”  
“Fine, whatever, let’s just get out of here.” The pair walked down the corridor towards the school’s exit until Ancom stopped abruptly. Ancap stopped and looked back only to find his friend frozen and looking over their shoulder. “Oh Jesus, not this again.”  
Ancom could see the way every delicate feature on his face contrasted with his strong jawline. The way his messy hat-hair framed his face perfectly and the way his cheekbones and Adam's apple bounced when he laughed entranced them. To them, it seemed like he had a deal with the light itself to strike his visage perfectly at all times of day. Time tends to stand still in the viewing of things of such faultlessness.  
Suddenly, they were pulled out of their viewing by an annoyed hand grabbing them by the wrist and pulling them away. They shook their head and finally realized Ancap was pulling them towards the school’s exit. “I’m not going to wait on your ass while you gawk at people on a Friday.”  
“C’mon I was just looking.”  
“I know you like the idea of getting topped by a tall Russian boyfriend, but I got shit to do.”  
“Like what? Bitch at your parents until they buy you more dumb shit worth more than my house.”  
“What’s your point?” Now it was Ancom’s turn to roll their eyes.  
“Okay, but don’t pretend like you don’t stare at that one guy in econ all the time.” Ancap blushed slightly. Ancom smiled to themself after noticing that they got to him.  
“Do you want a ride home or not?” he asked in a failed joking voice as he unlocked the door to his sleek, white sports car.  
“Yeah, yeah. But you better spill about this shit later.”  
“Get in, dork.”

~*~*~  
“Alright class. Today we’re…” Ancom tuned their teacher out. They literally could not care less about whatever the fuck he was going on about today. They just leaned back in their chair and just mentally dozed off. However, a few minutes into letting their mind drift, a crumpled up piece of paper hit the side of their head. They looked for the source until their eyes met the slimy bastard behind them. They shot him a glare. He just stuck his tongue out at them.  
When the class finally ended, Ancom walked out of the class but was met with the chud himself and his stupid cronies in the hall.  
“What do you want, Nazi?”  
“I’ve told you, helicopter, that’s not my name.”  
“You just called me a helicopter.” They were too tired and sober for this shit right now. They really wished that Ancap was here right now, for both the drugs and emotional support. “Can you just fuck off today, please?”  
“I’m afraid I can’t. You’re wearing a skirt, and it’s violating my freedom to not see males in skirts.”  
“I’m not a ‘male’”  
“You have a dick, don’t you, troomer.”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Now can you please leave me the fuck alone?”  
They turned around and began to walk away when Nazi said obnoxiously loudly, “Look at its gross hairy legs! I wonder how it pretends it doesn’t have stubble. Damn, what zoo did it come from?” Just like that, Ancom could feel their insides tighten, and their eyes clouded in red. Tears began to form in their eyes. They wiped them quickly and kept their head down as they ran down the hall to their next class. Luckily, they saw Ancap right away.  
They practically collapsed onto his desk in a heap of heavy breathing and tear stains. Ancap looked at his friend knowingly and pulled them out of the classroom without much regard for what the teacher thought. He eventually led them to the least visited bathroom in the school and into the stall at the end of the row.  
As soon as he clicked the stall lock, he pulled Ancom into a soft hug. They couldn’t hold it back anymore and began bawling. Ancap just rubbed their back soothingly.“Shh, it’s all right. It’s all right. What did he do today?”  
“H-he made j-jokes about the hair on my face a-and l-legs,” they choked out through sobs.  
“I don’t even see any hair. He’s just being an asshole.”  
“Y-yeah, but I know it’s there…” Ancap released them from the hug and looked them in their eyes.  
“Ancom, why do you care what he thinks about you. We both know he’s an insecure douchebag who takes his wrath out on you. When you let him get to you like this, he wins.”  
Ancom sniffled. “I know. I just,” They paused. “It’s hard when he knows how to make me feel like a gross hairy man parading around in skirts. I feel disgusting, and...wrong.”  
“Ancom, look at me.” They looked up at him with large watery brown eyes. “You’re not a man. You’re not wrong. You’re perfect. Even if you did ‘look like a man,’ you’d still be perfect because it’s no one’s job but yours to validate yourself. Fuck that asshole for making you feel otherwise.”  
They sniffled again. “You’re right.”  
“I always am.”  
“But can we just, stay here for a little bit I-” Ancap already took a seat next to them on the floor and put an arm over their shoulders. They buried their face in his shoulder. “Thanks.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh oh. the plot is happening now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna get updated pretty frequently until I finish it tbh

This class again. Ancom would rather pull their toenails off one-by-one than sit here for one more minute. Not only were they aware of the chuds behind them very obviously making jokes to each other about them, but this class was just boring as hell. In hindsight, it may have been a good idea to not have taken it in the first place.

“So, we’re going to be doing a project this quarter, and each of you will need a partner.” 

Ancom mentally groaned. They didn’t have a single friend in this class. Just people they were vaguely on good terms with who they knew silently judged them through the thin veneer of common etiquette. There was nothing more that Ancom hated than the teacher letting them pick their own partners and having to suffer the embarrassment of being the last kid standing without a partner only to be awkwardly shoved into a random group as a group of three.

“And this time  _ I’m _ choosing the partners.”

At least they could skip the awkward shit and just get this over with. The teacher began calling out the pairs from his clipboard. Each one moving awkwardly towards their assigned partners one-by-one. They began to zone-out until he called out their name.

“Ancom, and…Identitarian.” 

Ancom’s soul left their body. They heard the scrape of his chair and could feel the torment and ridicule of a man walking towards them in slow motion. Their breathing got heavier. Their eyes watered slightly, but it wasn’t enough to be noticeable. They bit their lip in an attempt to suppress their anxiety but ended up just making it bleed slightly.

“Hello, troomer.”

“Let’s just get this over with so I don’t have to be around your racist ass longer than is absolutely necessary.”

“At least I don’t identify as an attack helicopter.”

“Please keep going. I love it when you rape that joke’s corpse. I thought you guys were supposed to be the funny ones.”

“Aw,  _ he’s _ an angry troomer.”

And that was the snap. He always does this. He leads up with dumb memes that they can roll off easily and then he brings in the comment designed specifically to get under their skin. 

“Can we just get started,” they basically growled.

~*~*~

They had entered the lion’s den. This project required time outside of school to finish, and they agreed to go to Nazi’s house to finish it. They definitely were regretting it as soon as they agreed but the last thing they wanted was for Nazi to come to their house just to help their dad shit on them and make comments about how they live on the poor side of town. They just decided to bite the bullet and do it at his house

However, as they walked to Nazi’s apartment, they realized his neighborhood wasn’t the ritz either. They climbed the stairs until they got to the door with the number Nazi gave them. The short anarchist knocked on the door and was greeted by the fascist’s hateful eyes. God, they wished Ancap was here. Nazi opened the door and moved out of the way. 

“My mom and my brothers aren’t home so they shouldn’t bother us,” he said. Ancom looked around at his family’s apartment. It was small. The kitchen and living room were connected to make up the front room. His living room consisted of an older television and a flowery couch that looked like it came straight out of the 90s. There was an assortment of letters and papers strewn across the old counters in the kitchen with ancient appliances dividing them. There was a humid smell that Ancom recognized as similar to their apartment.

“Great I brought some supplies,” Ancom replied as they pulled some markers and glue out of their backpack. There was silence as they set them on the old coffee table and the awkwardness could have been cut with a knife. They attempted to create some sort of conversation. “Is your dad home or something?”

“My dad doesn’t live here anymore.” Ancom mentally scolded themself. 

“Oh um, I’m sorry.” A long pause took over the room. “My mom left, so I understand.” A longer pause. Nazi’s expression was a weird fusion of cringe and annoyance.

“Let’s just do the project,” he broke the silence.

They had been working for a few hours until being interrupted by the front door opening to reveal a figure who looked extremely like Nazi except he was wearing a pink sweater with a white collared shirt underneath. Ancom recognized him immediately but couldn’t pinpoint from where.

“God, why are you home?” Nazi shot at him.

“Well, I missed you, too, Nazi.” he replied.

“That’s not my fucking name!”

“Uhh, who’s that?” Ancom whispered over to Nazi.

“That’s my fagg-y older brother, Homonationalist.” Nazi annoyedly answered so Homonationalist could hear.

“Wait hold on, do I know you?” Homonationalist interrupted Nazi to ask Ancom. Ancom flushed a little with the two fascists staring at them.

“Um, I go to GSA often if that’s it?” Homonationalist snapped his fingers as he suddenly remembered.

“That’s how I know you! You’re that trender who can’t pick a gender.” Now Ancom knew who this guy was. Of course their invalidators were related.

“And you’re that self-hating trans guy who shits on other trans people for not passing!”

Noticing the building animosity between the two, Nazi chimed in. “Homofash, leave us alone please.”

“No. I want to watch TV. Why don’t you guys just move to your room or something?”

“Ew gross. I don’t want to be alone in my room with a queer! What if it rubs off on me!?”

“Naz, you live with me.”

“That’s different! This one is a hundred times more degenerate than you!”

“Nazi, just let me watch TV.”

Nazi just huffed as he grabbed an armfull of poster-making supplies. “C’mon,” he growled at Ancom as he walked out of the room.

Ancom followed but not before shooting a quiet, “You’re still a piece of shit,” at Homonationalist who just smirked as he propped his feet up on the coffee table.

Once they got to Nazi’s room, Ancom noticed how dark and dingy it was. They couldn’t really judge too much. Their room was basically a perpetual hotbox, but Nazi’s reeked of gamer sweat and Doritos.

Nazi basically threw the supplies he was holding onto the desk in the corner of his room. “Let’s just finish this already.” Ancom awkwardly shuffled over to the desk and resumed the drawing they were doing on the poster. 

The pair continued working for an hour or so in silence which neither minded. However, one thing was lingering on Ancom’s mind. “Hey, Nazi?”

“What is it, troomer?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“As long as it’s not degenerate.”

“Why do you respect Homonationalist’s pronouns and stuff? I thought you thought gender was assigned at birth.”

“He’s my brother. It just makes life living with him easier if I don’t go out of my way to piss him off I guess. Plus, my mom pushes me to. She’s a libtard, honestly.”

“Well, since you respect his identity, could you please just refer to me as they/them while we have to work together on this project at least?”

“What? No. There are still only two genders. At least if you were a girl or something, that’d make sense. You’re just an attention-seeker.” Ancom rolled their eyes. It was worth a shot they supposed.

“Identitarian! Sweetie! I’m home!” a voice came from down the hall.

“Ah fuck, my mom’s home. Just stay here. I'll be right back. And don’t touch anything!” 

Nazi left the room and shut the door behind him. Ancom began to look around Nazi’s room. They knew he said not to touch anything, but curiosity got the best of them. And fuck authority. They started looking through his desk drawers until they found a composition book with nothing but a date on the cover.  _ “Interesting,” _ they thought to themself. They heard footsteps coming back down the hall, and in a panic, shoved the composition book into their backpack and closed the drawer. Nazi opened the door late enough that he didn’t notice anything. However, Ancom knew that they were the worst liar ever and looked for a way out.

“Hey, it’s getting late and I think we got plenty done for today. You want to just call it a night?” they asked in the least suspicious way possible, adrenaline pumping. 

Nazi yawned, “Yeah that’s fine. I guess it is getting dark out.”

“Cool, okay. I’ll see you later.” Ancom raced out of the room and then out of the fascist’s front door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically, the plot is mega happening now

“All I’m saying is that I am absolutely fine with the fact that I’m gay, and have better things to do.” Ancap whined as he trudged through the school corridor.

“C’mon Ancap. I know you like to pretend you’re a straight rich-boy, but there’s nothing wrong with these meetings.”

“Not when they’re at 6 am,” Ancap sighed. He knew Ancom did benefit from the support, but he could only take so many depressed gay kids on meager sleep. He never really was a big fan of these stupid identity politics. He was gay, sure, and it did help him sell juul pods to the queer kids. But that didn’t mean he didn’t hate waking up early to come here. Nevertheless, he still let Ancom drag him here.

They walked into the classroom that was housing the meeting that day and took their usual seats together in the back of the room. Ancap proceeded to analyze every person in the room, as per usual. Every kid with colored hair at their school and various fashion disasters littered the room, and honestly Ancom fit right in. Ancap, on the other hand, felt like his preppy polo and khakis made him stick out a little. Ancap stopped his people watching when he saw Ancom gawking at the door.  _ “Oh god.” _

The exchange student stood in the doorway with a ushanka on.  _ “Tacky,” _ Ancap thought, but he could see Ancom was absolutely eating it up. He was surprised they hadn’t started drooling on their desk the way they looked at the guy. He rolled his eyes and elbowed his companion. 

“Ow. What the fuck?” Ancom whisper-yelled.

“It’s not polite to stare,” he smirked.

“Fuck off. This means he gay though!”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it in your pants.” 

Ancom frowned. “Fuck off.” 

The meeting was pretty much the same stuff as usual and was over in about an hour. However, Ancom could feel the composition notebook burning a hole in their backpack. They were practically bouncing as the two left the room. Suddenly, while having a typical dumb conversation with Ancap, they ran right into the new kid.

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry! I uh,”

“No no. It’s okay.” His Russian drawl made Ancom melt inside. So much so that they didn't even realize that he had walked away. Ancap had to use every ounce of his power not to laugh. 

“Damn, kitty, you got it bad!” he mocked once they were far enough away from everyone that no one would hear his excessive giggling. They rolled their eyes. 

“Whatever. I have to show you ‘the thing’ though, c’mon,” they dodged as they pulled Ancap into the bathroom.

“Yeah you did say you had something to show me. What’s up?” Ancom locked the door and pulled the composition book out of their backpack. Ancap raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Ancom. That’s a notebook.”

Ancom’s smile practically danced across their face. “This, is Nazi’s  _ diary. _ ” 

Ancap almost choked. “His  _ what _ ?”

“You heard me.”

“How the fuck did you get your hands on that?!”

“It’s not important.”

“Well how do you know it’s his?”

“I got it from his room…”

“Ancom, you sly bastard, haha!” he bubbled. “Okay now open it! Let’s read it!”

“What? No, I can’t do that. That would be an invasion of his privacy.” Ancap’s face was a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

“Then why the fuck did you steal his diary?!” 

Ancom paused. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I just felt like it.” 

Ancap looked like he was at his limit. “Just read the damn book.” 

Ancom bit their lip and sighed. “Fine.” They slowly opened the cover and began to read Nazi’s chicken-scratch handwriting out loud.

_ “My mom is making me write down my problems now after my last outburst. She’s worried I’m acting out because of Dad somehow, but…”  _ Ancom stopped. “Ancap, this is wrong.”

“Compared to the shit this fucker has done to you, this is fairly tame,” Ancap crossed his arms. “Plus , you’re the one who stole his diary.”

“You’re just nosey.”

“And?”

Ancom sighed again and continued reading, skipping ahead a few lines.  _ “I am so sick of these fucking troomers at school. Living with Homofash is degenerate enough, but between the,”  _ they paused,  _ “disgusting display in my english class and his friends, I can’t help but become infected by them. As hard as I try, I can’t be the superior alpha male that I was meant to be. Yesterday, I tried to use Ecofash’s Porno mags with the women in them, but it didn’t work with reinstating my status. Then there’s that degenerate femboy in my class again. I sometimes stare at him. At first, I thought I did it because he was so weird and cringe that I couldn’t look away, but now I realize that the degenerate has infected and enamoured me. I feel gross everytime I think about him. This must be  _ their  _ plan to turn a good Aryan man like me into a fucking nu-male soyboy.” _

Ancom just paused for a good twenty seconds as they processed all the words that they just read. Ancap’s eyes were wide, and he held a hand over his mouth. 

“Um, what the fuck did I just read?” Ancom asked.

“Fuck if I knew.” Ancap ran a hand through his hair out of anxiety. They both just sat in silence, trying to maintain a hold on reality. “Did he, did he just say that he has a crush on you and it’s because of the jews?”

“I-” they took a second, “I don’t know?” Ancom just blankly stared at the scrawled-on lined pages.“Should we keep reading?”

“Just skip to the end, I guess.”

_ “I can’t take it anymore. The troomer is going to be here any minute to work on this stupid project. He makes me feel weird when I’m around him. I kinda like it, but I know that’s just the globalist propaganda clouding my head. He’s a degenerate, but somehow, I can’t stop thinking about him. I hate it. Why did  _ they  _ have to corrupt me like th-”  _ Ancom stopped again. “That’s where he cut off.” They just looked up at Ancap.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know how to respond to that shit.”

“Well then what the fuck do I do then?!”

“I just told you I don’t know!”

“I have to take this book back. I just hope he hasn’t noticed it’s gone yet. I gotta go over there this afternoon anyway. I just have to put it back in his drawer, and he won’t even know that it’s gone.”

“What about all the uh, y’know,” Ancap waved his hands around frantically.

“I-uh, I don’t know but, uh. I guess you were right about him being insecure, jesus fucking christ.”

“Well, isn’t that the understatement of the year...”

~*~*~

Ancom felt like they were carrying a pound of bricks in their backpack as they trudged back to Nazi’s apartment. They should’ve never stolen that fucking notebook. They could’ve gone the rest of their life without knowing that Nazi harrassed them because he had a femboy fetish. Sadly, curiosity definitely killed the cat. All they had to do was put it back and this whole nightmare will be over. Hopefully.

They knocked on the door and were greeted by Homofash.

“Oh shit, you’re back.” He greeted.

“Fuck off, dude. I just came to do this project.”

Homofash just smirked at them and opened the door. “Nazi, your trender friend is here!”

Ancom rolled their eyes. They weren’t here to kill a truscum. Not today at least. They were here to fix what they did and maybe work on this dumb project. Maybe.

Nazi came out with his hands in his front pockets of his jeans. He looked weirdly relaxed. “Oh, hey Ancom. We can just work in my room today.” He seemed too calm. It slightly worried Ancom by how off putting it was. “But we could’ve worked out here if it wasn’t for this fucking degenerate!” Nevermind.

“Shut the fuck up Nazi. I’m watching She-Ra.” Homofash shot back. “Why are you so pissy today, anyway?”

“Oh you know what you fucking did,” Nazi stalked off down the hallway to his room. Ancom followed. Once they were in his room, the rage practically melted off of him. Ancom shuddered to themself at how quickly the other teen’s emotions shifted.

“Anyways, um, do you want to get started? We might be able to finish today,” he said nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. Ancom picked up on an emotion they’d never seen on Nazi. It was a mix of fear and anxiety that seemed to make him look like he had one hundred other things on his mind outside of what he was saying.

“Yeah sure, um, are you okay?” They slightly regretted poking the bear.

“Um, I’m fine. I just,” he looked to the side. “Okay, you don’t like Homofash do you?”

“No, not really…”

“And you don’t generally trust him right?”

“Can’t say I do...why do you ask?”

“No reason, just, he’s pissed at me right now, so he’s out to spread some lies about me is all. Just don’t believe anything he says about me because it’s not true.”

“Oh I gotcha.” Ancom laughed in their head. They couldn’t believe how easily their tormenter was reduced down to a cowering toddler over a bunch of paper and lead. Then they remembered that he tormented them because he has an unhealthy view of relationships, and it became less funny. 

They got started working on their project for about an hour in silence. Ancom was just waiting for the other to go to the bathroom or get a snack or something so they could put this damned book back. But then, a thought came to them. What if they didn’t do that, and they kept the book? If Nazi believed that Homofash stole it, then they’re off the hook. Also, maybe Ancom could  _ fix  _ Nazi. It was clear to them that he was clearly fucked up, and maybe he wasn’t entirely gone. He was just confused and didn’t know how to love himself so he took it out on others. Maybe with this book and with some time spent with him, Ancom could fix him.

“Hey, uh, where should we put this?” Nazi asked as he held up a printed out paragraph.

“Um, just there would be good,” Ancom replied as they pointed to a spot on the trifold. There was silence as Nazi glued the paper. “Hey, um, so your mom seems nice. I talked to her last time I was here. She’s really dope.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s good I guess. She’s just always working. I never really get to see her as much since Dad left.”

“Oh, I know the feeling, I guess.”

“Does your Dad work a lot?”

“I wish. Nah, I meant my Mom. When she died, it was really hard for me. I just wish I had more time with her.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, dude. That’s really rough.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a heavy topic.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I-It’s nice to meet someone who kinda gets it besides my brothers.”

“Yeah, you too.” Ancom was looking into his bright blue eyes now. They could see something in them, an innocence that they hadn’t noticed before.

Nazi stared back and saw something in Ancom’s eyes besides shame and lust. He saw a person. He saw a person with emotions in front of him. And that was strange. He got up from the desk awkwardly, breaking the moment. “Uh, I’m sorry I have to go use the bathroom.” He raced out of the room.

Now was Ancom’s chance to put the book back. This was it. They reached for their backpack, but they just couldn’t do it. For some reason, them having this book made Nazi be nice to them, and honestly, they weren’t about to fuck that up. Ancom rezipped their bag as Nazi walked back in and sat down.

“Hey, Nazi?”

“Not my name, but what is it?”

“Sorry, but, would you want to maybe, go get lunch Saturday or go see a movie?” There was a pause.

“Um, yeah. That’d be kinda nice.” He paused, “It’s not a date though right?”

“No, just hanging out.”

“Good because I’m not a queer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk when the next update will be but hopefully in a few weeks. I've been kinda busy lately, but i do enjoy writing this story so I'll try to update soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so this is the longest chapter i've written for this and I did it in one night. so basically this is the anti-climax. enjoy uwu

It was four minutes after 7:00 when Nazi finally showed up. For a second, Ancom thought the authoritarian was just going to stand them up before they saw his stupid blue collared shirt breaking through the crowd. Now Ancom’s head was racing. He wore a nice shirt like he would to a date to what he called a platonic get together. Ancom’s mind thought back to the diary, the book growing heavier even when they weren’t carrying it. “ _ He makes me feel weird when I’m around him. I kinda like it…” _

They were snapped out of their thoughts by Nazi’s voice. “So troomer, what movie are we seeing?”

“Look, if we’re gonna hang out, can you not call me a slur that only incels use.”

Nazi looked to the side and crossed his arms. “Fine, but you can’t call me an incel anymore.”

“Are you not one?” Ancom realized what they had asked after it left their mouth. They saw Nazi’s face contort as they could feel the nerve they had struck.  _ “You literally just asked if he was a virgin, dumbass.” _

Nazi stood frozen by the abruptness of the question. Sure, he was a virgin, but he was just waiting until marriage. Anything else was degenerate.  _ “Including the fantasies about…”  _ He didn’t want to have sex anyway, so he wasn’t an incel, right? “No, I’m not an incel. I don’t want to have sex. It’s degenerate.” A good answer, he thought to himself.

Ancom, noticing the awkwardness left in the air after that statement, wished there was a window to jump out of somewhere. What did they think the answer to that was going to be? He is literally a Nazi. “Let’s just go get our tickets.”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re seeing.”

“1917. You strike me as someone who likes war movies.”

“Maybe…”

Ancom smirked to themself. They could literally read Nazi like a book now that they had his journal. Although Ancom told themself that they wouldn’t read anymore of it, the anarchist couldn’t resist and read the entire thing. They knew  _ everything  _ about the Nazi now. Even some of the subtle things that could be picked up by reading inbetween the depressive repressed rambling. For example, Nazi is a huge germaphobe. They remember reading about how when his conservative friend accidentally touched his hand, he made an excuse to go to the bathroom to wash them in fear of the possible germs. Then, it was followed by a rant on how disgusting people’s hands actually are...and then a weird ramble about how soft Ancom’s hands looked. 

They shuddered at that thought as they looked down at their hands, the nails bitten down and the black and red nail polish now beginning to flake and chip. Then they looked over at Nazi, walking beside them with a back like a board. He looked like he might break if he stood any straighter. They had a plan.

Once the pair was seated in the theater, the lights were already off as the advertisements played. No one was really in the theater as it was a fairly late showing so Ancom saw their shot.

“Hey, Nazi?”

“Hm?”

“Can I see your hand?” There was a pause. Ancom couldn’t see his expression, just the outline of his features.

“Why?” Now it was Ancom’s turn to pause. They didn’t think they’d get this far.

“Palm reading?” It came out more as a questing than an answer. Nonetheless, Nazi moved his right hand over to Ancom. They began to trace the lines in his hand. Ancom knew nothing about reading palms but they were a good liar. They wished they could see Nazi’s face, have some feedback of yes or no, but of course they decided to sit in the darkest spot in the theater. Then, the ad playing flashed a particularly light screen, just enough to see those big blue eyes engrossed with the sight of Ancom’s hands touching his. They blushed. “Do you want me to stop?” He shook his head. Ancom took that as approval and laced their fingers together. As soon as they did that, the movie started.

Now it was Nazi’s turn to blush. That sly communist. However, he told himself, this was a normal thing for friends on Ancom’s side to do. The only reason he was flustered was because he was pure enough that degeneracy like premarital hand-holding was new to him. Surely. However, he wasn’t going to pull away. His hands were cold anyway. Yeah, it was winter after all.  _ “They are soft-” _ No. No they weren’t. Just warm. Yes, just warm. Was it him, or did Ancom just scoot closer. Oh-no, oh-no, oh-no. Maybe they didn’t? Maybe it was just his imagination? Yeah, he was seeing things. No cause for alarm. Just a new friend warming up his hands. That’s all there is.

Ancom could see the light reflected from Nazi’s eyes grow. They could only imagine what his expression was like. The fact that he hadn’t pulled away yet was a good sign. In fact, Ancom could feel him squeezing back a little. Ancom’s brain almost exploded when they felt Nazi’s thumb begin to caress the back of their hand. And it was, nice? Ancom took this as a cue to move a little closer, and a little closer, and a little more until their head was on Nazi’s shoulder. They expected him to get up or shrug them off, but he didn’t. Despite how tense Ancom could feel he was, he didn’t make any move to get them to stop. Ancom decided to call it a day here. This was good where it was, and they weren’t going to try to push Nazi farther than he was ready.

Meanwhile, Nazi could feel his insides exploding. The heartbeat in his chest felt like an armed soldier in steel boots marching. Ancom’s hair was touching his cheek.  _ “This is soft, too…” _ Nazi wanted more than anything to reach out and touch it. He didn’t expect the anarchist’s hair to be anything but a trainwreck, but it was so soft. He felt himself involuntarily leaning his head towards Ancom so that now his face was half covered in their messy hair. Now he could smell it. It smelled like lavender and weed, better than he had fantasized about. This was his bliss. His lips ticked up in a smile. He could hate himself for this later. It was just too good right now to ruin the moment.

Ancom began to bury their head farther into Nazi’s shoulder. For being so scrawny, he had some comfortable shoulders. They knew Nazi had leaned into them, however they weren’t expecting him to turn his face so that it was fully engulfed in their messy hair. The stroking of Nazi’s thumb on the back of their hand stopped, and they could hear Nazi’s soft breathing in their hair over the surround sound of the theater. Something about it was so familiar.  _ “Oh right,”  _ they thought to themself as they remembered the diary again. 

They remembered Nazi’s rambles about how he wanted long, soft hair to touch, and that sometimes he’d stare at they back of Ancom’s head in class envisioning the feeling of it. They didn’t really know what they were trying to do with all this. Did they want to date Nazi? Probably not. Then what was the point of indulging his personal fantasies? To make him realize that he’s gay? That wasn’t Ancom’s business. Then what was it? Why were they doing  _ this _ ? They didn’t know, but they were enjoying it for the time being, so they decided to leave it at that.

~*~*~

It was a weird walk home after the movie. Especially since Nazi offered to walk with them. “It’s a dangerous city, and you’re not exactly a Chad,” he argued. Ancom saw it as easier to not argue too much over it.

The walk was actually nice. The conversation felt natural. They talked about politics, sure, but Ancom really only cared to read between the lines. They would listen for the verbal cues in Nazi’s voice that betrayed an underlying emotion that was buried beneath layers of shitty talking points. The cold air painted their cheeks, and the barren streets allowed for his voice to echo and sing in their ears. They could feel the joy in Nazi’s voice, and it was nice, actually. Then there was a pause in the chatter.

“Hey, Ancom?”

“Yeah?”

“So, the whole, hand thing, can we pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Why?”

“It was kinda,” he paused, “gay.”

Now Ancom’s mood began to shift. “You didn’t pull away.”

“My hands were cold.”

“No they weren’t.”

“How would you know?!”

“I was holding them!”

“Can you just please keep it to yourself?!”

“Why? Are you only okay with holding my hand in a dark theater with no one around!? You’re okay with sniffing my hair if no one knows? I don’t know what y-”

They were cut off by Nazi’s lips connecting with theirs. They slowly closed their eyes and melted into the kiss. Nazi was obviously an amateur, but his lips tasted like peach chapstick. 

Nazi, on the other hand, had no idea what was happening. All he had known was that he wanted Ancom to stop yelling, and his body acted without his brain’s approval. But there he was, his lips on another person’s who was not a woman and not his wife. However, he couldn’t have cared less. The anarchist’s lips were better than in his daydreams. They tasted like sugar and felt like cotton. He put a gloved hand up to cradle Ancom’s cheek as he pulled away. They looked at him with watery eyes.

“I’m sorry, I-” he was cut off this time by the return of Ancom’s cotton candy lips on his. He wanted to never stop this. He wanted to taste Ancom’s lips for the rest of his life. He had decided that this was his new mission in life until Ancom pulled away.

“Please, don’t talk. I’ll keep your secret, I promise,” they said as icey tears rolled down their cheeks. Nazi used his gloved thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry, I just, I can’t have anyone find out about this.” Now Nazi’s eyes were watering, too.

“Why, though? It’s not like your mom of Homofash would care. My dad alone is more homophobic than your family combined. Don't you not think that it hurts me that you want to hide me from an accepting family? Is it just me then?”

The tears began to roll down Nazi’s face, now. “No, Ancom, I swear, it’s not you. I just, I don’t know-”

“So it’s _your_ homophobia, isn’t it?”

“I-”

Ancom just shook their head out of Nazi’s grasp. “I’m worried about you, Nazi. Am I supposed to believe that you bullied me for three years because you hated yourself, and now this bullshit because you still hate yourself?” Their sadness was bubbling back into anger now. “Also, there’s probably something you should know! Homofash didn’t take your stupid diary! I did, the first night we worked on the project, and I read the whole thing!”

Nazi’s face was a blend of hurt and sadness, but no anger. Ancom felt like they’d just kicked a puppy. They just forced someone out of the closet and were now berating them about how they were being wronged. Wow. This was certainly a new low. The anger from before was now diluted with guilt and regret.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was stupid, but after I read what you wrote about me, a part of me couldn’t resist, I guess. You seemed so happy tonight, and I’ve never really seen you happy, so I guess maybe I wanted to help? And um, I kinda liked it when you sniffed my hair, by the way.” Ancom awkwardly began to rub their arm as they looked to the side.

“Ancom,” Nazi replied, “I don’t give a shit. I-” He paused and took Ancom’s hands in his. “I love you. I really do. I just, I didn’t know what to call it before, besides degenerate.” They pulled him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Nazi. I’m a piece of shit. I feel horrible.” They rested their head on his shoulder.

“Don’t be. I’m kinda glad you did. Because now, I get to hug you, for real, I guess.”

When they broke up the embrace, they finished the cold walk to Ancom’s house in silence. However, their hands had been almost fused together the whole time. When they got to Ancom’s front porch, Nazi kissed their cheek with what felt like melancholy. 

“Our secret, okay?”

Ancom nodded and went inside. However, their dad was sitting in a chair, staring at the front door.

“Where have you been, boy?”

“Nowhere.”

“And who was that fucker with you?” Ancom could tell he was plastered. “I told you what was going to happen if I ever saw you acting like a f*ggot again, didn’t I?” Ancom stayed silent. “Huh? Answer me!” Ancom said nothing. 

And what began so many other nights, began a night that like it was maybe going to be a decent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't know when the next update will be but it will prob b the last chapter


End file.
